


Eyes Wide Open

by SweetVennum64



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22138318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetVennum64/pseuds/SweetVennum64
Summary: What if it had been Bonnie to save Damon from Tyler’s werewolf bite?
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore, Elena Gilbert/Stefan Salvatore
Comments: 17
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a hopeless Bamon fan so I kinda rewrote things in my favor. Bonnie saves Damon from Tyler’s werewolf bite instead of Elena. Hope you like!

When you live for 170 years, dying sort of becomes a myth. Mortality becomes this made up word created to scare little children into eating their vegetables and going to church, praying to some invisible deity so you don't end up in the fiery pits of damnation.

After a while, vampirism turns you into some spoiled little entitled brat who can't be tamed. The world becomes your little chess board where you're the Master Player, free to move the pieces any way you please and if anyone tries to take your spot, you end them.

You're at the top of the food chain, your throne placed atop the mangled corpses you've piled up and collected for over a century and a half. You smile as you breathe in the smell of copper, the metallic scent of your food source. Eternity is yours.

Or at least it was…like 10 minutes ago…

Damon's standing out in the middle of the forest, the pale glow of the full moon mocking him, providing him just enough light as he stares down at his left forearm where the sleeve of his black Henley is pushed up past his elbow. The skin north of his wrist is an ugly mixture of black and red. Two perfect puncture marks stare up at him like the sunken eyes of so many of his victims. Purple veins of death stretch out around the wound, pallid and thin and as crooked as a reapers long fingers.

Tyler Lockwood bit him.

He tried to be the hero. He tried to do the right thing and this is what he got in return. This is exactly the reason he leaves the lifesaving, broody little rescue planning to his baby brother.

Stefan should be the one to save the damsel in distress. Or, in this case, the neurotic little vampire control freak and her pet boy-wolf who can't control his baser urges to save his own life. Hasn't that little mutt ever heard the phrase: " _Don't bite the hand that feeds you"_? Or more appropriately: " _Don't bite the hand that saved you from being a sacrifice in a blood ritual being performed by a psychotic wannabe werewolf/vamp hybrid."_

Apparently, Tyler's never heard of either of those things or else Damon wouldn't be standing here with two holes in his arm that fit the size of Tyler's fangs perfectly.

But he's ignoring the main point. The more obvious point. There's only one explanation as to how he ended up here. It's the same reason he's ended up in most of the fucked-up situations that have plagued him for the past year.

Elena.

Elena is the reason for his most recent feud with his brother.

At first, Elena was just another game to him. An opportunity to beat his brother this time and take the girl.

All his life he's known that Stefan was the favorite and at first he looked at Elena as a form of redemption.

* * *

Growing up, their mother had doted on Stefan. Constantly bragging on her little genius Steffy and how he'd grow up to be an investor like their father. And Stefan, being the good son, would follow their father around watching his every move and hanging on to every word eager to prove their mother right.

Their father had decided that Stefan would inherit the family business of banking instead of leaving it to Damon being that, in his fathers words, "Damon is a loose cannon and has shown no sense of discipline since the day he was born."

Subconsciously Damon thinks that in some small way he'd always sought his fathers approval.

He'd even let his father talk him into joining the army solely to prove his father wrong, show him that he had restraint, he could abide authority.

And then he skipped out after only a few months because fuck that. And yeah, discipline had never really been his thing, true enough.

Damon was never a _go with the flow_ kinda guy. His instinct was to go against the grain and if that made him an outcast then he had to become accustomed to being written off and ignored and he just figured that would be his life.

Until he laid eyes on Katherine Pierce...

He'd just arrived home after abandoning his post and she'd been traipsing around the grounds with Stefan at the time, of course. But when she'd spotted him approaching them and they'd locked eyes, there was this spark of mischief there and the tiniest hint of a smirk at the corner of her lips.

She'd looked him in his eyes. She'd actually _seen_ him. Her eyes raked over his body hungrily and it had done wicked things to him.

He was in love.

At first, in Damon's mind, this was a competition. Who would get the girl?

He'd been pretty confident at first. Greeting her with breakfast in bed before Stefan even had the chance to wake. Taking long walks with her through the garden. Showering her with gifts and flowers daily. He'd given her some if his best work, damn it.

But all of his efforts hadn't seemed to take her attention off of Stefan in the slightest. She'd still visit Stefan as much as she'd visit him even though Stefan hadn't done _half_ of the things for her that he had done.

After a while, Damon started to lose confidence, doubt himself, so he'd backed off a bit. No longer pushing, but only taking what was offered to him.

Thus birthing the love triangle from Hell.

She'd often have them both at the same time. Damon at her throat biting bruises and pinching her nipples to stand hard and pebbled, her back arching off the bed. Stefan buried deep inside her, making her moan deep and throaty in Damon's ear, running her fingers through his hair and pulling and writhing until Damon was so rabid with want he could barely see straight.

Then they'd switch, Stefan working her from the waist up while Damon buried himself in her heat.

It went on like that for months, maybe even years. He can't even keep the timeline straight in his own head anymore.

Long story short…the bitch chose Stefan in the end.

* * *

So yeah, maybe he just wanted to rile his brother up at first by flirting with Elena. Put another worry line on Stefan's already crowded forehead.

And then he fell in love with Elena, of course he did...

But he also knows he'll never have her, not completely anyway. It's Stefan. She's made it abundantly clear that it will _always_ be Stefan. But that still doesn't keep him from noticing the way her eyes linger on him when she doesn't think he's paying attention. He's well aware of the fact that more and more she's letting him get away with being just a touch inside her personal space. And, of course, she still reacts with a scoff and an incredulous glare when he says something particularly Damon-like and adds the eyebrows in for good measure. She wouldn't be Elena if she didn't do those things, but he can also read the heat under her gaze all the same.

It was the same gaze Katherine would give him just before she'd leave his bed for Stefan's.

The only difference is that Elena actually, genuinely cared for him and has shown him that fact on countless occasions.

That's the reason he's in love again.

And now, Elena is the reason his immortality is now a memory.

His eternity has been snatched away from him and for what? A mortal human who doesn't even belong to him in the first place? He's probably gonna die alone on the floor of his root cellar while the girl he basically killed himself for is somewhere bouncing on his brothers dick. Nice job, Damon.

The wind rustles the dried leaves on the ground beneath him exposing a fallen tree branch to his left. _Just do it…get it over with,_ is the thought that crosses his mind as he eyes the branch. _End it._

He's already been through this once with Rose, he knows the drill. Different book but the story ends the same.

At least he was able to give Rose a nice little dream to send her off peacefully to her death. Maybe, if he's lucky, his brother will peel himself off of Elena's ass long enough to give him a death dream fantasy of his own. If he even decides to tell Stefan in the first place.

He thinks the poetry would be just right if he leaves a trail of his blood spatters for Stefan to follow right up to his rotting corpse, his final words scratched into the stone wall of their cellar.

_Your wish is my command, brother. You're finally rid of me._

Yeah right. Who's he kidding? It wouldn't be nearly as satisfying being that he won't even be alive to witness Stefan's reaction.

He can honestly say that he couldn't begin to guess what that reaction might be.

Would Stefan's face crumple in pain at the sight of big brothers' lifeless corpse on the floor? Would he grin in triumph now that big brothers hat has been taken out of the running for Elena's affections forever? Or would Stefan just simply set his body ablaze in some generic attempt at a funeral and walk away, unfazed?

Now that he thinks about it, he's not sure he even wants to know the answer, either way. He kinda wants to go somewhere private where he could die alone and no one would ever find him. That way, if he ends up being some floating orb of smoke stuck to hover on Earth for eternity, he won't have to witness the mourning (or lack thereof) of his very limited collection of friends and family. They'd just all assume that he selfishly left them to fend for themselves in the supernatural beacon that is Mystic Falls. Yeah…he could live (or die) with that.

The moonlight hits the jagged end of the wooden branch just right, like a sign from the universe. If he tilts his head he can almost see the suicide note written in the moss at the base of the tree.

 _Jesus, the delirium is already setting in._ He thinks bitterly as he shoves his sleeve back down to cover the carnage that used to be his arm, lip curled in disgust as he continues to make his way back toward home.

The feel of the wind whipping across his face as he runs home makes him feel almost normal again. Like his whole life isn't crumbling before his eyes and he's a little calmer when he finally reaches the Boarding House.

He strains his ears as he nears the house. No heartbeats which means no humans (no Elena). Good because he just can't deal with her self-righteous attitude right now.

Elena and baby bro are still pissy with him for feeding Elena his blood earlier this morning but what the fuck else was he supposed to do? It's like he's the only one around here with some goddamn sense.

Elena was willing to bet her 18 years of life on Elijah.

Elijah Mikaleson. Brother of Klaus Mikaelson. The same Klaus who possessed Alaric and tried to kill Bonnie. The same Klaus who is _this fucking close_ to being unkillable and willing to do anything to get there, including draining Elena dry and splattering her blood all over some bullshit rock.

So...damn right he fed her his blood. And he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

He makes his way into the house and he listens for his brother but all is quiet. He and Elena must still be at the cabin in the mountains enjoying their vomit inducing time together while all hell breaks loose here in the real world.

Yep. Copious amounts of drinking is in order.

If he's gonna die, there is no fucking way he's leaving all his good bourbon lying around for Stefan to piss away. Nope, not gonna happen.

Can a vampire get alcohol poisoning?

He heads for the drink cart and doesn't even bother with a glass, just grabs as many bottles as he can cradle in his good arm, plucking the half full decanter off the lower rack with his free hand as an afterthought, and makes his way to the sofa in the center of the room.

He's already light headed and slightly dizzy thanks to the werewolf venom running through his body. And also…fuck…the pain in his arm is getting worse. Maybe its good he didn't die yet because killing Tyler is suddenly at the top of his bucket list. Fucking prick.

Grabbing up the first bottle, he pops the cork and chugs, leans back against the couch cushions, shuts his eyes and enjoys the burn…

He fights to keep his mind from wondering while also trying not to focus on any particular thing and somehow he still ends up haunted by his victims, faceless and bloody and ready to tear him apart upon his death…

* * *

The shrill ringing of his cellphone brings him back to the present and his whole body jerks like he's been electrocuted. He bangs his knee on the coffee table where his legs are stretched out underneath and when the fuck did he end up on the floor? A quick assessment reveals that he's finished seven bottles of bourbon and he doesn't seem to be in hell so its safe to say that he didn't die of alcohol poisoning.

His cell phone rings again and he should probably answer that now.

He digs the phone from his pocket and answers without checking the caller ID. Whoever it is, is gonna get a piece of his mind for interrupting his night of self pity, loathing and despair.

"What?" He groans, brushing away the mop of sweaty hair plastered to his forehead.

"Damon?!"

Fucking Stefan. Of course. Forever the buzzkill.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone? I've been calling you all night."

Damon's eyebrows crumple, confused frown on his face.

 _All night? What?_ He thinks.

He looks over at the window next to the bookcase and, sure enough, there are tiny beams of sunlight cutting through the blackout curtains and slicing through the shadows on the far wall.

Well damn. Maybe he came closer to death than he thought. He doesn't even remember passing out.

"Damon?"

_And where the hell is his shirt?_

"Damon?!"

"Jesus, Stefan. Do you know any other words? Maybe I needed some _me_ time. What do you want me to say?"

He hears Stefan's impatient huff on the other end and it makes him smirk. He begins to peel himself off the floor because his mouth tastes like ass and he could really use a blood bag and a shower right now.

"Where are you? We need to talk. It's about Elena."

Damon rolls his eyes because when isn't it about Elena?

"Yeah Stefan. What else is new?"

"Damon, will you quit screwing around? I can't…please…just. Where are you?"

Damon can hear the crack in his voice. His brothers desperate tone tugs at something in him and he pauses midway to the kitchen. Long buried emotions of family and bond and love being stirred and he's reminded of a time when Stefan used that same tone when they were boys to try to coerce him into sharing his bed because he was afraid of the dark and Father wouldn't let him keep the lanterns burning through the night.

He shuts his eyes, leaning against the wall in the main hallway.

"I'm at the Boarding House. What is it?"

Stefan exhales, heavy and loud in Damon's ear.

"Can't talk here. I'm on my way." The line goes quiet as Stefan disconnects the call.

* * *

Almost an hour later he hears the screech of Stefan's tires in the driveway, the heavy _thunk_ of his boots on the pavement as he makes his way up the porch steps and through the front door.

"Damon?!"

Damon rolls his eyes and stays silent where he's freshly showered and sipping bourbon laced blood at the kitchen table, feet propped up and crossed at the ankles in the empty seat next to him.

On the outside, he's the perfect picture of worry free.

Stefan, his hero hair, and his Levi's fill the archway near the kitchens entrance and Damon fights to keep the look of indifference on his face when he sees the puffy red skin under his brothers eyes, blood soaking the front of his t-shirt turning the once grey material an angry black. A layer of thick mud covering his $800 boots.

"Oh come on, Stefan. Don't tell me you're a Ripper again. Can you at least try to put your teeth away until _after_ we kill Klaus?"

"Damon…he took her."

"Ok I'm gonna need a few more descriptive words in there, Brother. Maybe drop a name or two for the hell of it."

"Klaus! Damon…Klaus. He took Elena."

Stefan sags back against the door jamb like he has no energy left and drags his fingers through his hair.

"What?!" Damon stands from his chair and steps toward his brother. "How the Hell did that happen? Weren't you two supposed to be at the cabin writing love poems or some shit?"

"We were. I don't know how he found us but he did. Threatened to burn the whole cabin down around us unless Elena left with him."

"And let me guess. Judging by the look of you, you tried to fight him, got your ass kicked, and he snatched Elena and ran. Am I leaving anything out?"

Stefan's face crumples and Damon could tell he was seconds from losing it.

"Elena was the last missing piece, Damon! This is not a fucking joke! Elena is probably dead! Don't you get it?"

Damon schools himself and tries to stay calm as he looks at his brother.

"Look Stef…I'm sorry, okay? Just calm down and listen to me for a second."

Putting both hands on his brothers shoulders Damon walks him toward the kitchen table and pushes him gently into a chair. Grabbing an empty glass from the bar, he fills it with bourbon and places the glass in front of his brother.

"Drink."

Shaking his head, Stefan looks up at his brother. "We need to find her, Damon. I can't.."

Reclaiming his seat next to his brother he places a hand back on Stefans shoulder.

"Look at me, Stef."

He waits while Stefan gathers himself and when he finally turns to Damon he can see that he's still barely holding himself together.

"Elena is fine, Stefan. And we'll get her back.. Got me?"

Stefan looks at him, confusion and barely controlled anger behind his eyes.

"Are you drunk or am I missing something here? Last night was the full moon. Klaus got all the components to the spell last night. In what universe are you thinking Elena is okay and not lying de-"

" _Do not_ finish that sentence Stefan." Damon grits through his teeth and fights the image of Elena lying lifeless and cold that's trying to creep up in his head.

"Please just shut up and trust me for once, alright?"

Damon bores his eyes into his brothers, willing him to trust him for once and when Stefan finally gives him a shaky nod, Damon has no choice but to accept that as a win for now.

Leaning back in his chair, he rubs his hands together.

"So. First things first. I already freed Vampire Barbie and Lassie last night so unless he had a couple of spares lying around, he couldn't have performed the ritual anyway, right?"

Stefan looks at his brother, eyes wide with shock and skepticism.

"You did it? You actually got them out?"

There's a new flare of hope in Stefan's eyes and it makes Damon smile.

"Dare you doubt me, Brother?" Damon says, standing once again.

"Now drink up." He says, pointing at Stefan's full glass still sitting in front of him. "We gotta go see about a witch."


	2. Chapter 2

She's sitting on her living room floor, cross legged with her spell book open in front of her, looking for another location spell. Stefan had called her an hour ago. Filled her in on Mystic Falls latest tragedy. And once again its her responsibility to get them all out of the mess.

When did this become her life? When did she become the towns savior? She just discovered her magic abilities like five minutes ago, and now its her job to save everyone. To be used and discarded as they see fit.

The only time Damon or Stefan, for that matter, ever acknowledge her presence is when they need her to fix something for them. It's insulting as hell.

If her Grams was alive right now she'd probably be shaking her head in disgust. Sheila's number one rule had been to never let the vampires control her or drag her into a mess that she didn't help create.

But Elena is her best friend. And now she's missing.

Bonnie loves Elena with her entire heart and soul. She would gladly lay her life on the line to protect her. But Elena falling in love with a vampire was not part of the deal. Being dragged into their vampire problems is not something she's ready to deal with. She feels like she's staining her families legacy. Bringing shame to their name.

Elena makes terrible choices. And Bonnie makes sure Elena knows what she thinks of those choices. Elena has her faults. They all do. But she wont't turn her back on her when she needs her the most.

What kind of friend would she be if she just wiped her hands of the whole thing? Walked away and let them deal with it? That just doesn't sit right with her. So here she is. Knee deep in someone else's problems. Again.

When this is all over and Elena is safe, she swears she's out of here. She's gonna disappear and live her life for a change. She owes it to herself.

The doorbell startles her and she curses under her breath. Closing her book, she stands and heads to the front door.

Icy blue eyes greet her on the porch. His cocky grin irritates her immediately and her lip curls in disgust.

"Hey, Bon-Bon. You gonna let me in? Or you wanna just stand there and ogle me?"

She rolls her eyes, ready to step back and slam the door in his smug face, but Stefan steps up beside his brother, gives him a withering stare before turning his gaze back to Bonnie, his eyes softening.

"I believe what my brother was trying to say is...thank you for seeing us, Bonnie." He gives her a boyish smile. "May we please come inside?"

"Yeah...what he said.” Damon snorts.

She exhales and steps aside. "Just keep him qiuet, please." She says, eyeing Damon as they both step over the threshold.

"He'll behave." Stefan replies, glaring at his brother.

They follow her to the kitchen. Her books and talismans lay scattered across the table. Stefan grabs the closest chair and sits. His elbows rest on his knees, head bowed. Damon hovers in the doorway, his arms crossed tight over his chest, eyes scanning the room nervously. It's the first time he's been inside her house and he looks as out of place as she would have imagined.

She grabs the chair next to Stefan and pulls it closer before she sits.

"Find anything?" Stefan asks, sounding as defeated as he looks.

"I've been scouring through everything. Even my Grams old books but I've got nothing." She scoots closer to him. "Stefan. They have a witch of their own. And whoever she is, she's strong. A century old at least. She has some kind of barrier spell up, and I can't break through it without a stronger force."

Stefan sighs, runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends. "My God. There has to be something." He pins her with his gaze. "There has to be. Bonnie. It's Elena."

She hears Damon groan from the doorway and they both choose to ignore him. She exhales, pulls a small leather bound book toward her and moves it to rest on the table between them. "You see this?" She points to a paragraph in the book. "A blood spell. I was thinkin' that I could try this one. But...I'd need something more powerful than a strain of hair from her hairbrush."

Stefan pulls the book toward him and scans the spell.

"I'd need..." She continues.

"...blood..." Stefan finishes for her.

She nods in agreement. "But since we don't have a vial of Elena's blood just lying around, we'd have to use..." She trails off as Stefan stands.

"The next closest relative." He mumbles, pulling his phone from his pocket, scrolling to Jeremy's number. "Behave yourself, yeah?" He eyes Damon as he heads to the front door for some privacy.

Bonnie makes herself busy gathering ingredients for the spell while trying to ignore Damon still hovering around. He looks so awkward and it would be comical if the situation wasn't so serious.

He's just standing there, in the middle of her flowery kitchen in his black jeans and black henley and black leather jacket with matching boots and he looks like a tornado in a field of dandelions.

She feels his eyes following her around and she has no clue what he's thinking. You never know with Damon so she doesn't say a word. Doesn't even spare him a glance as she sets her supplies up on her kitchen table.

"You really think you're gonna pull this off?" His voice floats from behind her.

She pauses, startled for a second, but regains her composure. She resumes her work, determined to not even acknowledge his presence.

He's shuffling around behind her and she tries not to tense.

"This is all riding on you, Bon." He pauses. "...I don't think you're gonna do it. You're dead in the water."

It's all a fury of emotions then. She sees red.

It doesn't take much with him. Just the mere sound of his voice brings her to her breaking point on most days.

But now he's playing on her insecurities. She thinks these things to herself all the time.

 _You're not good enough_. And. _You can't do it_.

How dare he voice her pitfalls out loud for her to hear?

She turns to face him then, squints her eyes. Revels in the feeling of watching him drop to his knees on her will as she bursts holes in his brain over...and over again.

"You may wanna watch your mouth, Damon." She sneers. Her mouth waters as his pain feeds her ego. "I've been practicing. And burning you alive is-"

Stefan is in front of her in a flash. "Bonnie!"

His hands are on her shoulders and she thinks he's trying to say something to her but she can barely focus with the haze of rage screaming in her head. She hadn't even noticed Stefan come back inside.

Damon always does this to her no matter how hard she tries, he always knows how to get under her skin. She gets sloppy like this. Let's people sneak up on her. She has to get this under control before she ends up just killing him.

She exhales and closes her eyes, releasing Damon from her magical hold. She hears him groan and crumble to the floor but since Stefan is currently blocking her view, she can only hope that his brain is also on the floor.

"You okay?" Stefan asks her. His voice is low and gentle.

She sighs. Inwardly disgusted at herself for stooping to Damon's level yet again. "Yeah..." she nods. "Just...shut him up."

Stefan glances behind him, notes that Damon is conscious and still in one piece. He's trying to climb back to a standing position but it's proving to be a difficult task for him right now.

He gives Bonnie's shoulders one last squeeze, apology written in the look on his face, and goes over to yank his brother up by the collar of his jacket.

"Easy! That's Givenchy!" Damon gripes, stumbling as Stefan gets him to his feet.

Stefan rolls his eyes. "I wasn't even gone five minutes. What the hell happened?"

He eyes Bonnie, already ignoring them to finish her setup. "Nothing."

Stefan gives him a look that tells him all the ways he doesn't believe his brother. "Listen, Damon. We don't have time for this, okay? Elena is missing and the last thing you need to be doing is antagonizing our only hope of finding her."

Damon glares at him but stays quiet.

"I couldn't get a hold of Jeremy so I'm gonna stop by the house, see if I can catch him there." He pauses. "You think you can behave yourself until I get back?"

"Wait, what?" Bonnie says. "Why isn't Damon going with you?" Her voice getting higher and more panicked with each word.

Stefan steps away from his brother to meet Bonnie in the center of the room. "Honestly? For protection."

"Protection from what?" She frowns.

"Bonnie. If Klaus' witch is as powerful as you say she is. She knows you've been poking at her barriers."

"I can take care of myself."

"Clearly." Damon mumbles.

She glares at him over Stefan's shoulder.

"Bonnie. I know you can protect yourself. And I'll take him with me if you want...but it would just ease my mind a little if I know you have Damon here as backup."

She huffs, rolling her eyes. She leans over to see past Stefan to where Damon is hovering by the window. As soon as their eyes meet, he gives her a sarcastic smile and a wave.

She groans. "Ugh...fine! But you better talk to him or else you'll be coming back to a bag of his ashes." She warns before turning back to her work.

"Will do." Stefan nods and turns toward his brother. "Wanna walk me out?" He asks, not waiting for an answer as he tugs on Damon's sleeve and leading him to the door.

* * *

She doesn't know exactly what Stefan said to him outside, but Damon hasn't said a word since he's come back inside. She's finished gathering the ingredients for the blood spell and all she has to do now is mix them once Stefan comes back with a vial of Jeremy's blood.

Stretching up onto the tips of her toes, she's struggling to get her metal mixing bowl off the top shelf of her China hutch. She's just about ready to give up on it when Damon's hand pops into view above her head and easily swipes the bowl. She yelps, stumbling backwards, her back slamming into Damon's front. He jumps back immediately, raising his free hand in surrender when she spins around to glare at him.

"I was just trying to help, Bonnie. You looked pathetic." He says, handing her the bowl.

She snatches it from his fingers and pushes past him. "Such a pest." She grumbles.

"You're welcome!" He yells after her.

He glances around the room. Eyes bouncing around nervously for the millionth time since he's walked into her house. It's not what he would have imagined Bonnie's house to look like. There is a nauseating amount if flower patterns...everywhere. Not a broomstick or cauldron in sight.

It feels like he's drowning in her. He feels claustrophobic. Like Bonnie's magic is seeping into his skin and invading his privacy. He checks the time on the wall clock. Stefan's been gone almost an hour. What is taking him so long? His fingernails are starting to itch in here. He pulls out his phone and dials his brother. It goes straight to voicemail.

"Dammit."

He pulls the sleeve of his shirt up to look at his arm. The pain has been getting progressively worse and the black death veins have branched out further, almost covering his entire forearm now. He's starting to wonder if he'll even last long enough to help them save Elena.

He's almost sure Bonnie knows of something that could at least slow the spread of venom but he doubts she'll even help him. Witches are finicky little things.

He finds her curled up in an armchair in the living room. The radio playing low while she reads. He watches her for a beat. Listens as she hums along with the song, bobbing her head.

"I never pegged you for a Skynyrd girl." He says, genuinely surprised when he hears Free Bird playing softly.

She doesn't look up from her book and he thinks she's about to ignore him until she finally says. "How could you peg me as anything? All you do is talk about yourself and annoy the hell out of me."

He chuckles. "True." As he makes his way further into the room he notices the way she eyes him curiously under her lashes.

"What are you doing?" She asks when he grabs a seat on the sofa across from her.

"Sitting." He says, slouching a bit and spreads his legs. "What are you doing?"

She rolls her eyes. "No, Damon. I mean why are you sitting in here? There's plenty of other places you can sit...away from me."

"Come on, Bon. Were supposed to be _bonding_." He purrs, wiggling his eyebrows.

She scoffs. "No thanks." And goes back to reading.

"I can hear your hearbeat, Bonnie." He says after a beat. "I make you nervous."

She slams her book closed and turns to him. "No. Damon. You make me angry, disgusted, sick...but not nervous."

He raises his eyebrows, appreciating her complete lack of regard for his feelings. "Huh.." he says nodding. "I can tell you actually meant that."

"I did."

"But you know, Bon-Bon...there's a very thin line between love and hate."

She laughs, incredulous. "Ha! Yeah right."

"You'll see." He says. The look on his face making her uneasy.

"Damon. I'm trying to memorize this spell...so if you wouldn't mind..." She makes a shooing motion with her hand.

"How rude." He frowns at her, but moves to stand.

He somehow let it slip his mind that his arm is currently dying, and leans a little heavy on it. He hisses through his teeth, cradling his arm close.

"What was that?" She frowns.

He immediately straightens up even though he knows it's no use now. "Nothing." He waves her off. Heading toward the kitchen.

"Damon!" She yells, unfolding herself from the chair to grab his wrist and turn him back around to face her. "Pull up your sleeve."

"What? No." He's trying to free himself from her grasp without hurting her but she's not letting up.

"Pull...up...your...sleeve." She grits through her teeth.

He glares at her. She watches as the muscles in his jaw clench and release but she refuses to be swayed.

He sighs heavy and rolls his eyes. "Fine."

She releases his arm so he can roll his up his sleeve. He hears her sharp intake of breath when the spongy black and blue skin of his forearm is exposed to her.

"Oh my God." She whispers, her eyes wide and disbelieving when she catches his gaze. "Is that...?"

"Yep." He says, pulls his sleeve back down. "Tyler bit me."

"Oh my God." She repeats, running her hands through her hair. "Does...does Stefan know? I mean...why-"

"No." He cuts her off. His tone low and cold. "And I’d like to keep it that way."

Her mouth falls open. "Wh...what? What do you mean he doesn't know?! Damon.."

"Bigger fish are frying, Bonnie! We don't need to add this on top of it. So you need to get yourself together and focus on finding Elena."

She's pacing back and forth. "Damon. That wound could _kill_ you! How is that not a big fish?" She stops pacing to grab her phone off the coffee table. "I'm calling Stefan."

He's on her so fast she doesn't even have time to blink. Before she can even register what happened, he's got the hand clutching her cell pinned behind her back.

"I said... _no_." He flashes his fangs, black veins snaking under his eyes.

She's breathing heavy and he can feel her pulse beating deliciously where his hand is still pinning her arm behind her back, his thumb pressed firmly against the soft flesh of her wrist.

"Careful, Damon." The warning in her voice is evident and he really does't want another brain scramble if he can help it.

He lets her go and steps back just far enough where her chest isn't brushing against his own. "Look, Bonnie." His tone is careful. "I need to make sure everyone is one hundred percent focused on finding Elena...alive. If you go throwing this out there..." He gestures vaguely at his arm. "...it would just take focus off of what's important." His eyes are feverish and he looks exhausted. "Can you promise that you'll keep this quiet until after we find Elena?"

She's chewing on her bottom lip and her expression is torn but he knows that she knows he's right.

"Alright, fine. But if this becomes a problem, I'm going to Stefan." She says.

Satisfied with her answer he smiles, steps back. "Good." He places his hands on her shoulders and spins her back around. "Now get to work." He says, gently shoving her toward her chair.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows Stefan as he goes in search of Jeremy. Bare with me! The next chapter is Bamon centric!

Stefan jumps to the second story ledge on the far side of the Gilbert house and peers in through Elena's window.

Even though he knows she's not there, he almost expected her to be sitting on her bed, scribbling away in that journal she always carries around with her.

He remembers it sticking out of the side pocket of her backpack the first time they met…well, the first time he'd had the courage to speak to her, that is.

Their true first-time meeting is a collection of memories he'd rather forget.

But even with circumstances around their introduction being so damn unusual and crazier than anything anyone could ever make up, for some reason that brown, leather bound journal cradled in her arms has always stuck out in his mind as a beacon for her acquaintance.

Aside from the fact that she was an exact replica of the ex girlfriend he'd shared with Damon more than 150 years ago, that journal of hers was confirmation that he was right where he needed to be. He had to know her.

In his room back at the Boarding House are hundreds of little leather bound books that he'd constantly scribbled in when he was lonely, or missing Damon when he'd gone off to war, or when he was mad at Lexi for making him _feel_ again (that one makes him smile).

And previous to that, he'd had hundreds more at the Salvatore Manor that he'd written in as a boy.

Writing has always been a form of therapy for him, a safe haven. The magic of putting your thoughts, and dreams, and feelings on paper and being able to visualize and touch them was so calming to him and seeing that Elena never let her journal out of her sight, he imagined that she'd felt the same.

He remembers being amazed by the number of times he'd watched Elena as she would stop, open that book, and scribble things down throughout the day.

Sometimes she'd have a tiny smile playing on her lips while her pen flew across the page. Other times she'd wear a frown, lips turned down at the corners. And more often than not, he'd watch silent tears roll down her cheeks while she wrote and he'd burn just a little more inside, smelling the salt in her tears and feeling his heart ache right along with hers.

He imagines those times, when she's alone and furiously brushing tear stains off her face with the palm of her hand, that she's writing about the night of her parents death.

He wonders if she writes about him during those times.

The mystery man who had rescued her from the bottom of Mystic Lake.

The mystery man who she'd begged to _"please save my parents"…_

The mystery man who had let her down in the worst way…

...the mystery man who erased himself from her memory that night because he was a coward and a cheat and he wanted a do over. He wanted to _steal_ his second chance to make a good first impression.

He was sad and damaged that way.

After he'd pulled Elena from the wreckage and called 911, he'd compelled her to forget all details of the man who'd saved her life.

All she'd know when she finally woke was that "a dark figure swooped in out of nowhere, pried the back door open and pulled her to the surface and by the time she'd finished coughing up water and gasping for air, her savior was nowhere to be found and her parents were lying lifeless a few feet away."

He'd stalked the edge of the woods near Wickery Bridge, out of sight, watching and listening to Elena tell every detail of the story he'd planted in her head.

He'd sworn off human blood more than 50 years before, after he'd nearly ripped the heads off of half of northern Virginia, and with his _alternative lifestyle_ choice to feed on animal blood, his compulsions can, at times, be rendered obsolete when practiced on very strong or determined minds so he had to be sure this wouldn't be one of those times.

He'd watched the silver Volvo being dredged up from the bottom of the lake. Watched the paramedics and the coroner as Elena's mother was first placed on a gurney, followed by her father. He'd watched as their bodies, cold and still and lifeless, were covered with white sheets. He'd watched as they both were rolled into the back of a big black van and the sound of the doors slam shut with a finality that twisted in his gut.

He remembers wanting to scream and cry and end the whole world. If that's how he had felt... he couldn't even begin to pretend he knew what Elena could be going through.

The story was over. His compulsion had worked but he couldn't turn and leave. He'd just stood there, watched her as she'd sat in the back of an ambulance. Big grey blanket thrown over her shoulders that looked like it was trying to swallow her whole. She was still soaking wet and her red T-shirt stretched out of shape, her jean shorts plastered against her thighs like a second skin. She was shivering violently but he didn't even think she realized it. Her face was blank and her eyes were staring out at nothing.

The look on her face that night haunts him to this day and he knows he'll never, ever forget it. So, when he'd bumped into her in the hallway at school three months later, he grabbed his moment and put it in a chokehold and he planned to spend every day of Elena's life doing penance for his failure to keep her family whole.

* * *

He easily pops her bedroom window open and slides through. The scent of her lavendar scented body wash and peppermint shampoo immediately reaches his nose and he's equally angry and sad all over again.

Angry at Klaus for coming here and ruining everything.

Angry at himself for not being strong enough to save her.

And sad because even though he refuses to say the words out loud, a small part of him can't help wonder if he's too late and Elena's already dead.

He grinds his teeth together until he hears the bones in his jaws start to crack.

_Focus Stefan._

He trains his hearing so that he only picks up the sounds inside Elena's house.

He hears the slow drip of water from the leaky faucet in Elena's bathroom. He hears the _wooshing_ sound of the air from the air conditioner blowing through the vents to cool the house. He hears the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen downstairs.

These sounds are all artificial.

He closes his eyes and makes himself listen again.

No heartbeats. No breath.

No sounds of human life.

He heads through Elena's bathroom and out of the door on the opposite side that connects Jeremy's room.

Jeremy's bed is expectedly empty and unmade and the sheets are cold to the touch which means wherever he is, he's been gone long enough to be lost to Stefan. He scans the room and find Jeremy's cell on the corner of his desk next to his sketch pad.

He knows deep in his gut that Jeremy wouldn't have left the house alone _willingly_ without his phone and the already tight feeling in his chest deepens, giving home to a sinking feeling that he's not sure he can fight much longer. Everything he's encountered so far is telling him that he's one step behind, one second too late…

He tries to bury that train of thought as he picks up the phone and scrolls though the call log.

He sees the 3 missed calls from earlier when he'd dialed Jeremy from Bonnie's porch.

The fourth call is a number unsaved.

He hits the redial button and tenses as the line begins to ring. He sucks in breath he doesn't need and holds it as the line connects.

"Yeah?"

The voice on the other end is hard and emotionless, but unfamiliar.

Stefan quickly ends the call and exhales.

It's the last number on Jeremy's incoming call log and he figures it's as good as anything.

He pockets Jeremy's phone and hops out of the window on the other side of the room next to the bed and heads for the sheriff's station.

* * *

Its business as usual at the Mystic Falls sherriff's office.

Layla, fresh out of the Police Academy, works the front desk answering phones and filing paperwork. Ninety percent of the documents filed in those gray file cabinets behind her desk are of gruesome "animal attacks" and "strange disappearances". All suspicious…all unnatural, but it's human nature to shy away from what can't easily be explained away or to cling to whatever lie they're told, no matter how ridiculous, as long as it helps them sleep better at night.

Sheriff Forbes and her daughter, Caroline, are having lunch in the break area toward the back of the building at a small table tucked off in the corner. How ironic is it that the Sheriff of Mystic Falls and leader of the Town Council who secretly hunts and kills the vampires of this town while covering up the murders committed by said vampires is sitting across from her vampire daughter and doesn't have a clue that one of the murders she's recently covered up was a body drained by her one and only child?

This horror show literally writes itself.

Once of the few scarce items that he can add to the plus column though is that if he is forced to say one positive thing about his brothers actions in the past year he'd have to say that Damon's brilliant idea to infiltrate the town council was by far some of his best work.

Not only did Damon become close friends with the sheriff, but he also threw the Council off their trail by helping them find and kill vampires. No way would they guess that a member of the council and a member of one of the Founding Families, was a 160 year old vampire with a vampire little brother, would be helping them kill off their own kind.

Again. It writes itself.

But, if it hadn't been for Damon's sinister, yet well calculated plan, it wouldn't possible for Stefan to just waltz freely into the sheriff's station and right up to the sheriff and ask a favor.

She spots him just as he clears the threshold and stands immediately, motioning for him to stop. Caroline turns and meets his eyes. Confusion and suspicion barely hidden there, but she stays quiet.

As Sheriff Forbes nears him she nods behind him toward her office. He allows her to pass and follows her.

Once they're in her office with the door shut, she motions for him to sit in one of the hard wood armchairs in front of her desk while she has a seat across from him behind her desk.

"Sorry about all that. It's just that this whole thing with Elena has already got Caroline in a funk, I just didn't wanna add to it." She says, scooting closer to her desk, tidying some of the papers on top. "That is why you're here, isn't it?"

"Well…not exactly. He pauses. Actually…it's Jeremy."

She stills where she's stacking manila folders into a pile and looks up at him. "Oh God, what now?" She asks him almost whispering.

"Well, I honestly don't know yet." He lifts enough to pull Jeremy's phone from his back pocket and slides it over to the sheriff.

She looks down at it and back up at Stefan blankly.

"That's Jeremy's phone." He says. "I went over to Elena's earlier to…"

He started to tell the truth. Give her the whole story about the blood spell and their plan to go rescue Elena but thought better of it. Sheriff Forbes has already been though enough over the past few weeks juggling every lead on Elena's whereabouts while also trying to support Caroline and Bonnie emotionally. It would just be too much so he decided to omit... _most_ of the story for her sake.

"…I went over to check up on him and he wasn't there. No signs of forced entry and no signs of a struggle. He was just…gone."

"So. Do you think somethings up?" She's still holding the folders in a tight grip.

"I don't know. That's sorta why I'm here. It's just with Elena going missing, I'm just…really on edge about everything." He says, running his fingers through his hair.

She exhales. The sound that comes out of her mouth could have possibly been a laugh if all hell wasn't breaking loose. "Believe me. I understand." She says. "So what do you need from me?"

Stefan grabs up the phone again and pulls up the unsaved number in Jeremy's phone before placing it back down in front of her.

"Every number in that phone is attached to Jeremy's phone book, except that one." He points down at the highlighted number. "Whoever that person is, is the last person Jeremy talked to. They called him about an hour before I did and the call only lasted a minute and a half."

He leans back in his chair and exhales. "It could be nothing. It could be something."

The sheriff nods, picking up a pen and scribbling down the number on a note pad before standing. "In Mystic Falls…we always err on the side of _something."_ She says, pocketing the piece of paper. "Give me some time. I'll give you a call when I've got something."

* * *

He's heading down the front steps of the sheriff's office about to go over to The Grill in search of, well, anything, when he hears the click of Caroline's heels hurrying down after him.

He's not sure why he expected to get away so easily.

He forces on a smile that feels staked to his face and turns to face her. "Caroline, hey."

"So my _best friends_ brother is missing and you weren't even going to tell me? Great."

Stefan's eyebrows crumple. "How…?"

"I eavesdropped! Of course! What did you expect? You and my mom were doing your little secret sign language thing right in front of my face. Have you guys _met_ me?"

Well…she's kinda got a point there.

He loves Caroline, of course he does. He's the one who helped her through her transition when Katherine turned her and during that time, he realized that she was more than a spoiled brat who craved attention.

She's funny, smart, loyal, supportive and, of course, beautiful. She'd become one of his closest friends because of that.

But she can also be overbearing, animated, overwhelming, anxious, and a bit of a worry wart. And right now, he's feeling a bit of all those things himself and didn't need extra emotional baggage to hold on top of that.

He drops his head feeling a little guilty for being so selfish but this thing with Elena has him so out of tune with himself and everyone around him.

When he meets her eyes again, he's wearing a more genuine smile this time. "I'm sorry, Caroline." And he means it. "I honestly didn't want to worry you. Especially since I don't really know the whole story here either." He pauses and when she still doesn't speak, he continues. "I promise I wouldn't keep anything from you if it were important. Come on, you should know that."

She exhales and he watches as the tense lines in her shoulders finally begin to relax and she gives him a tiny smile.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry." She pouts a little. "I just feel so out of control, you know? There's a psycho hybrid running around kidnapping innocent teenagers, Tyler's on the other side of the world looking for his wolf pack, and you're keeping semi-secrets."

They both chuckle at the last part and he steps closer to her, grabbing both her hands in his own.

"Trust me, Caroline. You aren't the only one losing your mind here. Elena is…God knows where…and I feel like a sitting duck."

She squeezes his hands where they're still interlocked between them and pulls him in for a hug.

He holds her there for a second and hadn't realized that he'd been needing that. A familiar touch, like a small reassurance that everything will work itself out…one way or another.

He pulls back and gives her a tiny nod. "Thanks."

She smiles and he actually feels a little more grounded now.

"I was headed to The Grill if you wanted to tag along."

"What's at The Grill?" She asks, frowning, but follows close beside him as he begins to walk.

"Honestly? Who knows? But sitting around waiting just makes this whole thing worse. I just need to stay moving, active, searching…"

She touches his arm lightly, understanding perfectly what he means. "I get it. Let's go to The Grill."

* * *

Of course, after three hours of searching, nothing turned up at The Grill, or the school, or the woods where Jeremy used to cut school with his friends, or the quarry, or Elena's house when they went by a second time _just to be sure._

He hadn't really expected to find anything so it wasn't a surprise. He'd just needed the distraction. And even though she didn't say it, so did Caroline.

They're sitting on a bench at the quad when the Sheriff finally calls and they both tense as Stefan answered his phone.

"Find anything?"

"Got a trace on that phone number you gave me. Traces back to a small motel called The Brookwood Inn, in Charlotte, NC."

They both frown as they take in the information from the Sherriff.

"Charlotte? What's in Charlotte?"

"No clue, haven't found anything yet to link Klaus to Charlotte but I still got my guys looking. I'd say head that way and see what you can dig up."

"Got it. Thanks Liz."

He disconnects the call and looks to Caroline.

"So…road trip?" He asks Caroline.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised. More Bamon! Reviews welcomed!

Bonnie refuses to believe her luck is this bad.

Out of all the people who could have found out about Damon's injury, people who can actually _tolerate_ him, she had to be the one to shoulder the burden of discovery. And not only that, she has to keep it a secret or else, in Damon's own words, he'll eat her.

Now, of course Damon's threat means nothing to her, he can barely sit up straight, but, she agrees with him so she lets his idle threats fly this time.

This should stay between them. There's already too much piled on one plate with Elena going missing, Jeremy being in the wind, and Klaus' entire existence is just a whole shit show in itself. Adding Damon's impending death on top just feels like overhaul. Especially since the others most likely wouldn't be able to offer any kind of solution that would helpthe situation anyway.

Everything in Mystic Falls derives from magic in one way or another so, either way, this would be solely on her hands. But what else is new, right?

If she's being honest with herself, which she usually tries to be on most days, Damon deserves this. Everything from the agonizing pain to the haunting memories the fever is bound to dredge up, to his slow decline into nonexistence.

He's done enough damage to the world and to the people of this town, hell, for the things he's done to her alone, he deserves this a hundred times over.

One thing she's realized about Damon is that he's _selfish._ Down to his very core, Damon is always out for himself.

Even when he thinks he's doing a good deed, there is always a selfish reason behind it.

The only reason he went out and saved Tyler and Caroline in the first place is because he fed Elena his blood and he knew she'd hate him forever if she'd died and woken up a vampire. So, he saved them to stall Klaus' plan.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Caroline and Tyler are good and wouldn't have deserved to die like that.

He just didn't want to ruin his shot at possibly winning Elena over and stealing her from Stefan.

Selfish.

So yeah, he's getting what he deserved.

And even with all that said and at the risk of sounding like a complete and total hypocrite, she thinks Damon is a necessary evil. A wild card to balance things out. In a group full of do-gooders, they all need someone who isn't afraid to be the bad guy. And Damon most definitely takes pride in doing so. Relishes in it, even.

He does go overboard at times. Well, _most_ of the time, but when it comes down to it and push comes to shove, Damon will get the job done, no matter what.

And if history is anything to go on, without Damon around to offset the pride and egos, it's either going to be Elena's need to make everybody happy or Stefan's fear of becoming a Ripper if he pushes himself too far that will get them all killed inside a year.

So she's going to make sure Damon does live. For her sake and for her towns sake.

Call it selfish. She deserves a little self-serving at this point.

Now that she's memorized the blood spell she intends to use to find Elena, she's still curled up on the armchair next to the window in the living room paging through her second grimoire trying to piece together anything that would help them reverse this thing with Damon.

He's currently stretched out on the sofa across from her, passed out again, finally.

She was _this close_ to killing him herself so she wouldn't have to listen as he went back and forth between moaning and whining to telling her how she's wasting her time searching for a cure that doesn't exist.

Sadly, his theory has been proven right so far. She hasn't found anything remotely close to something describing the effects of a werewolf bite on a vampire or how to reverse it.

But she refuses to believe it's not out there.

When it comes to magic and witchcraft, the most absolute rule is that there must be a balance.

No immortal being is ever _truly_ immortal, every spell has a reversal spell to match, and every ailment has a cure.

There is no rule that says any of those things will be easy to find though, unfortunately.

From what Damon explained to her, he has another day, tops, before the venom takes him out so she figures if she stays calm, uses her brain, and Damon stays quiet, she can figure this out before then.

But leave it to Damon to always rain on her parade, even when he's unconscious. His picks that exact moment to start coughing violently from the other side of the room and her concentration is broken just like that.

Jesus, she's really tempted to drive him to the Boarding House and lock him in their cellar until she finds the cure.

"Blooood, Bonnie. I need blood."

He's still coughing between words and he's drenched in sweat. He pulled his overshirt off a long time ago so he's left in his black tank top and jeans, open at the waist because she wouldn't let him remove them completely.

No way was he about to be laying on her couch, sweaty and half naked. Just. No.

The white ace bandage she'd wrapped around his wound earlier is now stained with his blood and black ooze. She's gonna have to change it soon.

"Bonnie..."

His voice is all pitiful and whiney and she plans to never let him live this day down if he survives it.

"I hear you, you big baby. I'm going."

She slams the book in her lap shut and puts it on the side table next to her, stands and takes her time stretching before heading out of the room.

"I imagined a more pleasant bedside manner from you, Bon. I'm slightly disappointed."

She rolls her eyes as she walks past him. "What can I say, Damon? You bring out the Hyde to my Jekyll."

He scoffs but it turns into a violent coughing fit and she covers her mouth to hide her laugh as she makes her way to the kitchen.

Caroline always leaves a few spare blood bags at her house for emergencies so she grabs one from the small lunch box in the back of the refrigerator and pours it into a coffee mug and puts it in the microwave on thirty seconds.

She chews on her thumb nail while she waits and she thinks how screwed up her life has become that she's not even remotely phased by the fact that she's warming up human blood in her microwave for the sick vampire on her couch.

The _ding_ of the microwave breaks her out of her thoughts. She grabs the mug and heads back to the living room.

Damon's passed out again and she wants to just let him sleep but thinks better of it. She'd rather not deal with a sick _and_ hungry Damon Salvatore.

She inches toward him; her heartbeat accelerates and she feels a dull ache low in her gut. She always feels slightly off balance when she gets in too close a proximity to him.

It's like she's sneaking up on a lion.

His hair is dark and wet and violently tousled because he can't keep his hands out of it. The constant crease between his eyebrows has smoothed out and she can see his eyes moving rapidly under the delicate skin of his eyelids. His face is pale, looks smooth to the touch, almost like porcelain, save for his cheeks which are tinted bright red. His lips are parted slightly and she can hear his breath, low and even. She can feel the heat radiating off him and she as to fight down a wave of panic because a vampire definitely shouldn't be throwing off heatwaves.

"Damon?" She whispers and he flinches but doesn't wake.

"Hey, Damon…I got the blood you cried for" she says a bit louder.

He still doesn't move.

She sets the cup on the coffee table beside her and reaches for him, lightly tapping his shoulder.

"Damon."

His eyes shoot open, the brilliant blue shocks her and she gasps, frozen to the spot.

The hand of his uninjured arm shoots out so fast that she doesn't even track it. Doesn't even notice it until she feels it tightening almost to the point of pain around her wrist.

"Damon…Damon. You're hurting me, let go." She grits through her teeth.

His eyes are cold and burning into her own and she doesn't even think he hears her until his grip begins to loosen, but he makes sure she stays put.

His eyes soften as he scans her face.

"Katherine?"

Her stomach bottoms out and her heart follows closely behind. She thought she had a few more hours before the hallucinations were supposed to kick in.

And why did it have to be a Katherine memory? She's only heard the _bad_ memories of Katherine. Did Damon even have good memories of her? He must have if he spent 150 years pining over her, right?

"No. Damon, not Katherine. It's Bonnie. You hearing me?"

He's staring at her, eyes still soft and cloudy and the fact that his thumb is now rubbing in slow circles on the inside of her wrist where he's still got his fingers tightly wrapped lets her know that, no, he most definitely _is not_ hearing her.

She feels a tiny shiver tickle down her spine and tries to pull her arm free of his grasp.

His fingers tighten again, a small warning, and she freezes. He's basically on his deathbed but still _so strong._

She watches as his eyes drop to her lips and he licks his own before he meets her eyes again. The walls inside her mind are falling and crumbling to dust. _What is happening?_

He lets out a low, pained growl and his face crumples.

"Katherine, please." He whispers. "Please tell me what I did wrong. Why am I not good enough for you? What does Stefan have that I do not? Please Katherine, will you not speak?"

He's searching her eyes, desperation and pain and icy flames shine in his own.

She can hear her heartbeat hammering in her ears and her whole body is trembling, mouth hanging open. She's honestly speechless. She feels like she's eves dropping or reading Damon's diary and she can't make it stop.

"I love you like I've never loved another." He continues. "And I swear, if you give me half the chance, I will spend my life making all of your wildest wishes my every command."

She's shaking her head slowly. Willing this whole thing to just stop, reverse, _go away._

"Damon..." she tries but the sound that is released from her throat is a mere parody of what her voice used to be.

He tugs down on her wrist until she has no choice but to comply and drop down So she's crouching and when they're face to face he leans forward and cups her cheek gently with the palm of his hand.

She tenses, strictly by force of habit because this is Damon. Her mind has been trained to brace for violence whenever he's around.

Which is why right now her brain is firing off every signal it has available, trying desperately to figure out how the hell to respond to _this_ version of Damon.

Her head is starting to swim and she realizes she's not breathing. She exhales and the air fumbles out of her like bricks of a building being torn down.

He's handling her gently and delicately. Brushing his fingertips across the skin of her cheeks and then trailing down the side of her neck and up into the hair at the back of her head.

He's looking at her like she's all he sees, all he ever _wants_ to see.

Now, in her mind she knows he's not seeing _her_ right now. She _knows this._ He thinks he's talking to Katherine.

But apparently her body doesn't know these things because she's on fire.. Everywhere his fingers have touched is tingling like livewire. She can't seem to catch her breath and she has to bite her lip on a moan when he tightens his grip on the hair at the back of her neck to tilt her head, forcing her to meet his eyes once more.

In her defense, it has been _way_ too long since she's been touched like this, _seen_ like this, so the fact that she can't get her body to agree with her brain that this is all an illusion can't be held against her.

"You are so beautiful." He whispers. And she can't fight the shiver that shakes her from her head down to the tips of her toes.

She really needs to stop this before it goes too far. Well, it's already gone too far but she should stop it before actions can't be undone.

She grips the front of his shirt between shaky fingers and tugs on it a bit.

"Damon!"

And thank God her voice decided to make a comeback.

"Listen to me. You have to snap out of this now, okay? I'm not Katherine. I'm Bonnie."

His eyes are trained on her throat where his thumb is tracing a slow, agonizing line up and down her carotid artery and she's about to lose it.

She tightens her hold on his shirt and shakes.

"Damon..please." And her voice still sounds strong, but with a hint of desperation to follow.

His eyes finally snap back to hers and he's still holding on to her but his head is tilted and he's studying her closely like he's trying to remember where he knows her from.

She waits patiently while he puts the pieces together and she can see the clouds slowly clearing from his eyes like he's waking from a dream.

His eyes go wide and he _finally_ releases her from his grip and she's able to stand and blessedly, thankfully put much needed space between them.

" _Bonnie?"_

She exhales heavily and nods. "Yes. Bonnie."

_Jesus._

He drops his head back to the couch and shoves his fingers up into his hair, closing his eyes.

"You with me?" She asks quietly.

He licks his lips and his breath is coming out in shudders. "Yeah. That was just…"

When he opens his eyes to look at her, his gaze has gone distant again but she can tell he's just replaying the whole scene in his head again.

"That was too weird." He sits up then, and swings his legs off the couch and onto the floor. "I was so sure I was there." He looks up at Bonnie. "You were Katherine."

This thing is a lot stronger than she'd imagined. It's like he had been removed from all reality and it was almost like she wouldn't be able to bring him back. She's afraid to find out how the rest of the day will play out. She needs to find the cure. Fast.

She prays he doesn't drive them both insane before then.

"I know, Damon, but, that's what this thing does to you. It eats away at you physically and mentally. Dredging up your deepest darkest memories and bombarding you with them until you either want to kill or be killed."

She has to take a seat on the edge of the coffee table across from him. Her legs are jelly and her heart is still trying to jump out of her chest.

"I just need you to find a way to fight through this a little while longer, okay? I know there's a cure out there."

He's got that curious look on his face again and she feels that little flutter in her stomach grow into a sour burn.

"Your heart. It's wild right now." He says and his eyes drop to her chest, his Adams Apple bobs as he swallows, and she sees a flash of veins under his eyes before they disappear so quickly that she almost thinks she imagines them.

_Hunger._

"Oh…here." She grabs the mug and holds it out for him, her hand shaky as all hell. "It's probably cold by now but it's your fault for freaking out on me." She says on a nervous chuckle.

Their energy is all foreign and twisted now and she'd give anything to have some snarky back and forth banter right now,like old times.

He takes the cup from her hand and puts it to his lips, drinking it down greedily before replacing the cup on the table and leaning back against the couch cushions.

"You gonna be okay for now?" She asks.

He licks a stray red drop from the corner of his lip and nods but stays quiet. He's staring at her again, eyes calculating.

"What is it?" And she's trying not to fidget. He's so intense. .

"Why are you even bothering?" He finally asks.

So he's going back to this again. "Damon…"

"No. Really." He cuts her off. "This is not a sarcasm thing. I'm not being a dick. I really want to know."

His eyes are sincere.

"I mean, come on, Bon. Clearly we haven't been the best of friends, right? So why are you trying so hard to save me? You're the only one who knows about this. Why not just leave me somewhere to rot and die?"

She's seriously considered that option over the past few hours and she's almost acted on it a handful of times but it just didn't feel right.

"Honestly. It's crossed my mind."

"Naturally." He grins.

"But Elena is my best friend and Stefan is a good guy. It would kill them if you were gone. And I guess my conscience won't let me."

He turns her words over in his head quietly.

"Bonnie Bennett. The self sacrificing little lamb."

"That's me." She says, a self depricating smile playing at her lips.

"So, you find your miracle cure while I was out?"

She stands and returns to sit in her chair, grabbing her grimiore and hugging it to her chest.

"Not yet. But I've been thinking. Ric is the one who new about all this lycanthropy stuff in the first place. I think he's our best bet. I'm gonna head over and pilfer through some of his books."

"Well have at it, young optimist. I'll hang here in case Stefan shows up."

"Yeah there is _no way_ I'm leaving you here alone. Plus, Stefan called why you were asleep. Sheriff Forbes found a lead on Jeremy. He and Caroline are headed that way now so we've got some time."

She stands and gathers up her notes and her keys. "Come on, Salvatore. Get dressed and meet me in the car."


End file.
